The Drunken Mamoru Saga
by Ellourrah
Summary: How many times in a series can one guy get slubberingly drunk? And why, dear goodness WHY does it have to be so funny?
1. Chapter 1

Drunken Mamoru saga

"So, that Kino girl is pretty fine." Motoki slurred, eyeballing his half amber glass thoughtfully. His comrade nodded thoughtlessly, nursing a shot. The dingy sounds around them blurred in a ruckus of high pitched laughing and low grumbles. Dim lights stretched on over head like it was some sort of competition who could be more pathetic at illuminating the dirty bartop. Neither was losing.

"You know, I think once Rieka left, its been nice." Again, his partner in crime nodded, but didn't say anything. "the house is all...all mucked up. Like it should be."

"Right." The dark voice slurred as well, lifted blue eyes from the counter. He searched, but there was no sign of depression or remorse in the statement. Rather, the drunken arcade manager was grinning like a lewd.

"And Makoto is…leggy! And she's got green eyes, like me."

"Maybe you could have green eyed kids." Mamoru answered, signaling for another drink. The glass was filled by a faceless tender, this time sipped despite the fiery liquids strength.

"You know, I was just thinking...we could have an army!" The inebriated Casanova made to stand, but struggled with the concept of two feet before flopping back down on the stool. A dark chuckle broke the sudden quiet as Mamoru shifted up in his seat.

"Off to declare your love?"

"In a minute." He muttered gutturally, fingering a half eaten plate of burritos. "What about you, MamoMamo. Have your pick of all the ladies!" Pale arms flailed widely at the words, nearly claiming the young man in a cement floor death.

"No thanks. I've got plans." Always cool and confident, even bleary eyed drunk with his best friend.

"Oh? They wouldn't involve a certain blond, would they?" The mischievous grin was ruined by murky eyes and a twitch. Mamoru finished the last of his glass, setting the vial down with an unsteady clink.

"Hmm? You?" He wondered, blinking several times to make the familiar form visible again. He'd have to take the bus home, as much as he hated to admit it. They'd gone overboard after finals this time, and it was showing a little too well.

"No! Of course...well of course me too, but what about Usagi?" The blond perched his head on a fist curiously, eyeing him as if there were some secret only alcohol could bring to light.

"Who?" He rumbled, wondering why the name jangled in the back of his mind.

"You know, big blue eyes, legs up to here," he gestured wildly above his head, losing a fork for his efforts. The blank stare continued. "Donkey laugh?"

"Oh," the dark man chuckled again, setting the glass down decisively. "You mean my stalker."

"She's stupor cute." Motoki flailed, this time with his mouth. A wet smile tugged at his best friend's face. Aptly put for the spitfire, he would have to agree. The young girl would rival him one day for fans, of that there was no doubt.

"She is so...weird." He professed finally, feeling a strange weight in his chest. It had already begun, with Seijurro and that one kid who was always talking about statistics –not that the little middle-schooler had any interest in that. Frankly, if a girl couldn't talk math, what else could they possibly discuss?

"Yeah." Motoki nodded sagely, smacking his mouth as he thought. Inwardly, his companion agreed; alcohol was fun, but tasted pretty much like death. "What about Natsumi?"

Thoughts of his other little follower brought a fresh bout of tightness in his gut. Usagi meant well, even if she did pretend she was a space princess, but Unazuki was...pushy. If there was one thing he really couldn't stand, it was entitlement; more particularly if it happened to have red hair.

"I'd rather not." He muttered finally, downing the rest of his other drink in one go.

"Grass is always greener, hu? They both seem like nice girls."

It was true, they both seemed nice. He'd lost his temper with Natsumi in the apartment last week, but she'd been harassing a baby! Seriously, the girl had to be mental. And Usagi, he wondered if he'd ever get those demented faces out of his head. They were both nuts.

"What if...what if you end up with one of them?" The blond asked conspiratorialy, his hand smacking the side of his mouth in a pathetic attempt at secrecy.

"You mean, if there weren't any other girls, say, in our college classes?" His friend nodded, much more serious than the situation really called for. "what makes you think I could, or would, get in edgewise? I mean, they're cute girls. There's a lot of lonely guys out there."

"No, you know. You know!" His buddy was definitely getting more drunk by the second, but at least he really did know. The logical part of his brain had had its fun, but now was time for fanciful things. Like imagination. He didn't like that bit. "Fess up, my batman wannabe! Who would you pick?"

The two were night and day, a glowering sunrise forcing you out of bed, or sweet moonlight ready and waiting for whatever. He had a rather disturbing feeling that things as they were would not last long. He hardly knew either of them, and frankly he didn't feel the need to figure it out right now. And at least with Usagi, the expectation was more like hope.

"Eh, probably the Odango. Red's not my style."

"Yeah, she's weird." The sage comment came between hiccups.

The duo paused long enough to view a pool player get slapped for his efforts by a teetering woman in red. Both glanced at each other, grinned, and pounded fists for catching the exchange.

The woman immediately flopped against a table for her efforts, causing both men to chuckle into their glasses.

"Plus she's handsy." Mamoru shuddered suddenly, retracing the snow white debacle that had left strange, knowing faces on the younger girls; almost like they were laughing at him.

"Usagi try something on you?" Motoki asked, vaguely attempting to balance a spoon on his head.

"Hm? Oh, nope." Though the idea was appealing. She was too young to date outright, but something told him those kitten hands would be all too apt at certain things. The thought almost cracked the perfect mask of his face. Almost.

"Bummer."

"Sure you don't like her?" Coolly, he offered the question, noting it took more effort than normal to keep his voice level.

"Of course I do." Motoki muttered thoughtlessly, still smacking his lips together. Mamoru tensed. "Hello! She's hot! And sweet." The blond was staring off into space again. "Gorgeous." He smacked again, this time earning a wince from the other man. "Hilarious."

"The hell, man, just ask her out then!" The darker man bit out angrily, staring at his shot glass with every ounce of hatred he could muster. It didn't matter. It was just the Odango.

"Yeah, nope." The smacking thing would actually have to stop now, otherwise he'd end up strangling his best friend out of shear annoyance. "I'm thinkin' in green. At least I won't have to fold myself in half just to kiss her."

He didn't bother to answer. Even after hauling the blubbering fool from his seat and bundling him into a taxi, he kept his smart mouth shut. As the late night closed around, and the crickets chirped in the grass, he stumbled along the sidewalk toward home, barely recognizing streets as he went. It was but a few minutes later, when his stumbling feet snagged a chunk of uneven sidewalk, and sent the tall form crashing forward.

A voice, calling down from above, seemed to echo around the fallen man. But it was strange, because he'd always thought God was a man, and didn't have so much childish triumph in her voice.

"Now who's the Odango! Ha!"

.

.

….

What will Usagi do with a drunken Mamoru? Who will save our poor hero from his asphalt humiliation? Why is our precious, sweet Usagi out on the streets at some unknown hour of the morning?

Eh, you'll see next week ;)

E


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh shush-it, Luna!" the girl trilled happily, skipping off toward home. "That cardion was a breeze compared to Vampeal!"

"How much skill does it take to trip your enemy into a sharp, conveniently placed metal object?" The cat stalked eerily behind her charge, flicking the black tail like a whip. It always made her nervous to wander about the city streets at night with her princess frolicking along beside; the blond had about as much forethought as a goldfish on marijuana.

"Um, hell-o! It takes mad skillz!" the girl shrieked, wagging a tongue at her mentor.

"You face-planted in the middle of an attack," came the irritable reply. It made it so much better when stated in a posh British accent.

"Well I wasn't ready!" she harrumphed in response, trying hard not to let the little fur ball get her down. Not tonight! Not when the others hadn't even gotten out of bed in time to help, and showed up all flabbergasted by a Youma-kabob.

"Maybe if you spent more time training…" the cat tried again, feeling that eerie creep along her spine at the look on Usagi's fiendish little face. It was like the girl was fantasizing about it all.

"HA! Shows what you know. Training will not fix my natural grace one bit!"

The guardian hung her head, sighing loudly for the whole world to hear. It was pointless to try and explain how martial arts training actually _would_ help her balance. The only thoughts rattling around in Usagi's head centered on boys, food, and video games –just not always in that order.

"I'll remember that the next time you decide to camp outside the game store for a midnight release, Usagi-chan."

"It was Sailor-V!" the blond retaliated; as if the comment somehow justified her sleeping outside a building for 26 hours, reading manga, and generally making a nuisance of herself. What had made it particularly embarrassing was that the Sailor V fan-base had waned dramatically since the Senshi showed up. Frankly, she'd been the only one there until about 4 hours ago.

"She's your best friend!"

A loud thump and groan snapped the tension, and both girls were spinning to see where the noise had come from. Sprawled across the pavement like a murdered vegetable lay the crown Prince of Earth, _with_ his nasty green jacket. Even Usagi, for all her love of the man, couldn't help the unreal guffaw that exploded from her lungs at the sight.

"Now who's the Odango! Ha!"

The nymph danced closer, obviously horribly amused by the display of complete and utter non-Mamoru-ness of it all. She knelt on the sidewalk, careful to plug her nose for the awkward stench rising upward. He smelled like wet dog.

"Yuck! What the heck is going on? Youma? Like…super stinky one?" she prodded him with a finger curiously, belatedly wishing she had a stick to check if he was alive. After all, that is really how it's done –poke the thing a few times to see if it moves.

"He reeks of alcohol." Luna noted primly, swishing her tail in dislike. Usagi blanched, wondering why such a cool, ultra conservative guy like him could just pass out on a street like this.

"We should take him home." Now it was true concern, mingled with a bit of uncertainty. Mamoru was not a small man, and frankly she'd never really had an opportunity to explore him…er…his body…. Well, to mean that she'd need to lift him…with her hands…

She gulped, looking away quickly as her face burned. Oh sheesh, this was not going so well!

"You can't lift his weight, blondie! If you can, I'll let you off training for a whole week."

It did pose a strange problem. Given the downright disturbing nature of his fanclub, it would mean utter doom, and possibly some criminal lawsuits to leave him here on the sidewalk. Not to mention she'd be scarred for life with his face plastered on the TV by the term 'gang-rape'.

"Hmm…" She began to lift one shoulder, then the other curiously. "Think he'd fit in my sub-space pocket?

.

.

…

"Don't worry, Mamo-baka! I'm your Senshi in shining…denim? Polyester?" the blond triumphed momentarily, dragging the slumbering man from the void that was her eternal junk drawer. Cautiously, she plucked a loose hard candy from his jacket and popped it into her mouth.

"Just…just don't, Usagi…" Luna whimpered, still frizzing from the several-stories-climb through the fire escape.

The man was awkwardly manhandled onto the couch, mostly because every time she thought of the bed, it made her tingle from the inside out. Considering the fact that he hated her again, this was not at all promising.

"Oh stop, Luna. At least it worked!" One hand wagged furiously as she turned back to the young man in question.

"After you threw me in first! We didn't even know if there was air!" Luna's whole body was arching, freaking at even the idea of that wretched black hole. And how many half-eaten bento boxes had been stuffed in there? She shuddered. The cautious animal practically danced across the carpet in the foolish hope of not shredding it.

"That's _why_ you went first!" Usagi answered, as if that reasoning were somehow an explanation. Cinnamon red eyes twitched, taking in the view of her ward carefully, painstakingly noting that at no apparent moment did the blond actually consider the ramifications. It was mind boggling.

"I…am not going to be a part of this. Goodnight! Don't let your parents catch you here in the morning!" And with that, the grumpy little shadow slid out the glass door and into the night.

"Hmph! Well, just be…little, bossy…" she snarled momentarily before turning to the still snoring man. Well, at least they knew now that subspace pockets were apparently quite large –and strangely more effective than Tupperware.

She giggled, flinging both pigtails back and reached for a shoe.

"You never start with the…those." He murmured, words slurring together. She froze, turning her golden head slowly to stare up at him in horror. A tired smile played at his lip, even as fingers fumbled through thick black locks.

"Ma…moru-san..." She whispered in fear.

"You should start up here, I like it better." A strong hand smoothed across his chest, drew her eyes gloriously across his shoulders and chest. She gulped. Her fingers stilled in his laces, let the foot down slowly.

She was starting to get a real good idea how those candies felt behind glass.

It was strange being on the receiving end for once.

"Don't let me stop you, can start wherever you like," he drawled, and she shuddered at the tone. Carefully, nimbly, the girl picked her jaw up off the floor long enough to pose a single question.

"Ano…start?"

Why, dear goodness, WHY was he looking at her like that? It didn't make sense! Mamo-baka was just that! The BAKA! Oh dear heavens, this was not good. He didn't even have his memories…

Did he?

"I love it when you're shy," he all but purred. The golden child leapt to her feet, quickly holding both hands up as if he were some sort of threat. She'd never seen him like this –not even in distant memories! Why was this even happening?

"Um…maybe…I'll just get you something to eat…" Usagi turned to the kitchen door, her face all but glowing. What exactly she planned on doing in there was still a mystery. Her culinary skills extended to mass destruction.

"You always ruin my plans..." The dark voice above mumbled incoherently. It made her pause just long enough to glance back. That sounded more like it! Just keep with the 'Usagi is annoying bit' and we'll save the 'creepy, hungry Mamoru' bit for later!

She never actually thought such a thing would cross her mind.

"I'm really good at that." The comment was meant fairly seriously. He laughed, rubbing at tired eyes. Blue eyes carefully noted every movement he made, knowing it might be a while before she'd get the chance to again.

Well, actually, just because the man was hot. Mostly that.

"Hm, I love these dreams."

The young heroine started, a wicked grin sliding across her features. He thought he was dreaming? Prince charming he may be, but there was pay back to be had for all that flirting with Natsumi! Especially since he was obviously dreaming of her!

"I like the white dress. It's familiar." The barely coherent words slipped between awake and asleep, but had her mischievous brain flickering just the same. The Luna pen snuck from pocket to hand. It would be weird to yell, but maybe she could just...wish really hard?

Within moments, the soft fluttering of her white dress billowed around her, the heady weight of pearls at her forehead tugged toward the crescent moon. The man grinned widely.

"Come here, beautiful." He motioned with his hands. She grinned as well, looking forward to the game so she could torment him later when he had his memories. Seriously, since the battle with Metalia, he'd all but treated her like crap! And he obviously still had feelings for her!

"Oh my prince," she wailed theatrically. The frothy dress practically floated while she made her way back, right up until her shin smacked the coffee table. The resulting fall was inevitable, as was the convenient placement of said prince.

The fact that she ended up with her face in his chest just seemed to make him laugh harder. So really, it wasn't so bad!

"This is new." His fingers traced the crescent moon for a split second.

"Oh? I thought you dreamed this all the time." She blinked, wondering back to the ride up the elevator. Hadn't he mentioned something about a princess… which was, of course, HER! An evil grin slapped her in the face.

"Every night," he chided, leaning back on the arm of the sofa. She tried not to smile –this was the best news she'd had since remembering him!- but it was Usagi. So it was a useless gesture; as was any pretence of grace.

It was nice to just lie here, though, and feel him breathe. His hair was all messed up and adorable. His clothes were rumpled from sitting in them all day. Really, the only unbearable bit was him smelling like a dead possum.

She hoped that bit was reversible….

"Sometimes you're a Senshi. I like the skirt." The admission came out garbled and confused, but his hands were sliding across her back and making her brain think some strange things…

"We can make that happen!" The poor college student had no clue how warm the dream would be till her clothes literally exploded into ribbons, leaving him flush against a nude form just long enough to tease.

"Oh gods, I can die happy now." He groaned. Usagi giggled. Mamoru sure was talking funny! She'd have to watch him after this, maybe drop by again after he'd been out with Motoki. After all, what's a little mind game between old rivals?

"You're devastating." He whispered, both eyes snapping open. His large frame shifted upward.

"Devastating, hu? Tell me more." The blond eyebrows waggled suggestively as she tilted her face into both gloved hands. He chuckled, still fingering the bow at her back like he could figure out how it came off. "You're crushing! Imagine that, big tough college kid likes the underdog!"

"It's not a crush, Usa-ko." He rumbled, as if the information was a closely guarded secret. It might have been her imagination, but was he getting closer?

"It's totally a crush! Look at you, dreaming away." She tweaked his nose playfully and stood, completely missing the hungry stare traveling her form. "You know what we need?"

"Whu?"

"Ice cream!" the joyous call filled the apartment like the call of destiny.

"No…wait…" the drunken fumble of fingers sought her long after the nymph flounced away to raid the freezer.

.

.

.

You guys. I am so not funny right now. Sheesh.

Well, here's the second installment. We have tons more –hopefully more comedic than this turned out to be. I'm working waaaaay too much, and it makes my funny bone go numb.

Also, wedding planning. Seriously, I am not a planner.

I'm more like a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants planner.

Which is inherently better.

That is all.

E


	3. Chapter 3

…..

This was easily the most amusing drunk dream Mamoru had ever had. Not only was the Odango flouncing around his apartment in a very short skirt, she seemed to be rather enjoying herself without the clinginess of reality. Odango, just being adorable. Not hanging on his arm till he thought it'd fall off…

It was kind of the perfect mix.

"So…Mamo-baka…Since it's obvious you're just crazy in love with me, how come you never say it?" she said between mouthfuls, face adorably turned up toward him. It was a question he'd wondered many times since meeting her in the hospital a few months ago. Immediately, all the reasons he'd repeated in his head bubbled up in a mass of confusing, hormone driven logic. She was too young, too cute, too addicting, too impressionable, and frankly too innocent. His intentions were not. He made no secret of that to himself. There was also too much evidence to the contrary to even attempt a bold lie.

"Hmth…" is actually what came out. So maybe the vocals weren't working so well in this dream. He watched, noting how the whole room seemed to shift around her light as she stood and wandered with a spoon hanging from her mouth. The Senshi uniform was ridiculous on that young body, highlighting curves the middle schooler wouldn't know how to use for years.

It was a bit of a let-down that she didn't look older in that white dress. Gawd, but that thing made her so unbelievably attractive! Not that the school uniform wasn't adorable; whoever designed it obviously had been a sailor moon fan, minus the tragic length. It was just he always had a thing for damsels in flowing dresses.

If only Odango could wander around the arcade in the Senshi uniform.

Maybe that white dress could be altered...

He was such a pervert.

"Maybe because you're rotting your brains out with all these silly books. I mean, come on! When are you going to use this…this…pheizo…" she faltered, eyes squinting as the pages filed past her face.

"Physloggy." He supplied with some attempted professionalism.

"Sounds like something dirty," she muttered darkly, "like a slug."

The dark man chuckled, watching her flip through pages with that adorable confusion stamped on her face. Her eyes caught a picture somewhere past half way through, and she gawked, fingers going stiff as the book fell to the floor.

"Who knew college would be so…so hentai…" she muttered, blushing deeply. It only had the young man laughing more to see the mortification paint her face all sorts of colors.

All it did was prove his earlier thought true. Dreams were cruel; like a power shortage in an ice cream store in August. If she couldn't handle a textbook explanation, there was no way she's get a live demonstration. It made him feel ancient all the sudden. Like a turtle maneuvering around pier legs only to find the nesting ground had been changed to a car lot.

"I miss the…other dreams." He muttered, rubbing at his face tiredly. He'd never had to bite the truth so hard.

"Oh? Do you get the ones with the giant blueberry chasing you and Mako-chan's face is a knife? Those bug me out." The blonde peeked out from around the corner wearing a fairy princess crown she'd dug up somewhere.

"Whu?" The idea perturbed him, but only long enough to remember this was a dream. "Usa-ko, you're…weird." The dark mutter came with no small amount of amusement. His nymph was working her way slowly to the bedroom; a part of the dream he could only hope would be as vivid.

"As if! I am perfectly normal, I'll have you know!" she harrumphed, pounding both fists against her waist. He grinned, knowing how fleeting the word normal could be. Her skirt flounced just the tiniest bit at the action and practically had the young man drooling.

"You're dressed lik'a Senshi." He noted, more out of lust than anything else. Say what you like, he was a college guy in Tokyo. Maybe, if he was really smooth, she'd join him right here on the couch…

"And I'm rockin' it! Check these sweet boots!" One leg extended, taut and strong and gorgeous. He had always refrained from looking in the past for fear someone would catch him, but since this was a dream he could do whatever the hell he wanted! So he stared, long and hard. Tracing the gorgeous curve of her calf, the beautiful ankle trapped in red leather, the tone of hard muscle beneath porcelain skin, the flirty blue skirt just barely long enough to call a mini. The lusty sigh burned through the back of his feverish mind.

This. This was exactly why he'd decided never to be civil to her.

"They're alright." The understatement in his voice practically cooed. But the bubbly blond seemed to miss it as she cross her arms and pulled her adorable grin downward.

"Whaaaaat? Look at them: they're practically the whole outfit!"

"They could be." He shrugged, trying to play down the redness burning in his ears. He'd blame it on the alcohol later, but for now the mental image of just that was causing all sorts of problems. For one, he wished he'd at least stripped down or something before falling into bed. His clothes were getting rather uncomfortable.

That, and he was horny.

"Mamo-chan, I think you're a lewd." The comment was given primly as she bounded away, princess tiara and all, into the other room. He just laughed louder, tears streaming from his eyes as he sloshed a hand around trying to catch them.

"Oh gods, I hope I remember this."

"Mama says don't drink in case the mafia wants your kidney." The blond tilted her head to the side, eyes going distant as she turned around in a circle. It was like she was trying to take in everything in one go and could find enough space in her head to pack it. "She never says what they use it for. I think that's pretty weird."

She was tugging on a pigtail, boots soft in the carpet. He still couldn't calm the giggles that were rippling free, though, because her serious face made those words too ridiculous.

If nothing else, at least his subconscious had pegged her. So it wasn't just about sex.

He coughed.

Riiiiight...

"Ne, ne, Usako, come here." he struggled upward, feeling his face heat and his hands slip. The choking laugh was too close to the surface, and he couldn't seem to keep his hands underneath himself. "You're so far away."

"Yeah, I'm checkin the place out. Obviously, we're gunna live here together some day; I want to know where everything is."

"You…live here…" He flopped back dazedly, as if the words couldn't force a reality into his skull.

"Ne, Mamo-chan, what's this?" she queried, wandering out of his room with a photo album. It was odd though, hadn't his family died when he was young? "Hentai!" She screeched, recognizing her bathing suite from last summer. She and the girls rented a spooky mansion and…'private' beach. More like a ghost story and a tiny chunk of sand with nothing on it.

"Hey, I can look!"

"Only if it's at me, got it buster! There better not be pictures of Rei-chan in here!"

"Only if you're in them." He muttered darkly, somewhat offended she'd even think such a thing. His feelings were pure!

"I think that earned you a kiss, sir."

"Sweet." He grinned drunkenly, even as she bounded over and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Oi, oi, what…?"

"Now write that down fifteen times before the alarm rings!" she chirped, handing him the photo album and a marker. "Chiba Mamoru loves Tsukino Usagi." The demonstration had him laughing, even as he struggled to hold the pen steady.

"Do you make rice cakes?"

"Only if I don't get kicked out or blow the place up first!"

"Would you kiss me, Usako?" he purred, loving the weight of her in his lap. The girl blushed prettily, turning her head up and away.

"Maybe."

"if I beg?"

"maybe!" She squealed, eyes glowing with mischief and happiness. He chuckled, drawing closer with every moment.

"Oh! The ice cream!" The girl leapt from his lap, forcing a tired groan from the frustrated college student.

This was just...too true to real life.

Why couldn't it be more like the others when he could simply woo her with an in-depth reading of the pylethagrian theorem?

"Ne, Mamo-baka! Your whole freezer is stuffed with green beans!"


End file.
